Like Prometheus
by The Asteria
Summary: Clarke is trapped. Forced to repeat the same terrible day again and again. Stuck with the two unlikeliest allies, she will have to figure out what is real and what is in her head if she ever wants to be free again. But unfortunately for everyone, ignorance really is bliss. Set after the 2nd Season finale. Bit of a slow burner.
1. The Red Thing

**I own nothing, not the names, places or even the picture. Just the plot.**

 **The title is based off of the song Black Sun by Dead Can Dance.**

 **Have fun!**

 **The Red Thing**

The world came into focus as I lifted my head from the desk.

It was an old piece of furniture with faded bits of graffiti in illegible font doted haphazardly all over the wooden top. I sat up straighter causing the desk's metal legs to give a short yet loud scrape on the ground with my feet. What startled me was not the sharp sound slicing through the thick silence , but the realisation that i hadn't felt the movement of my own body. Everything below my diaphragm felt numb. Uncomfortably numb.

I told myself that sensation was indeed returning, that it would be ridiculous to assume I had suddenly become paraplegic; unfortunately the ability to feel was descending down my body at a rate too slow to be sure.

I took a gander at my watch while rubbing my temples with my free hand. It was nearly 3pm so school should be finishing soon; _I can finally go home and...and..._

What was once white noise, quickly turned into a woman's low and raspy voice originating a few meters in front of me. Looking up, the woman was initially nothing more than a blend of bark brown and vibrant green. Gradually, her image also sharpened.

The woman was beautiful in a 'just because 'I-am-a-serious-business-woman-doesn't-mean-I-can't-still-be-sexy' way. She was standing on a large stage with her dark hair swept to the side in a style that I always liked but could never pull off. The green resulted in being a form fitting dress that even I could tell was expensive. Red covered her lips.

She also happened to be our principle. Which would be why she stood where she did, raised to look down on us mere mortals. Usually the platform was saved for plays but she also enjoyed using it for one of her rare, lengthy speeches. _The last one was a Greek Tragedy I think._

Aside from the other female, the high-school gymnasium was filled with at least a hundred other students, all sitting at their own uniformed desks. I attempted to search their faces, to find features that would stroke a familiarity, but my eyes kept moving back to the woman giving us instructions.

"Students! Students, I require silence!" Exclaimed the woman. The already quiet gym remained quiet.

"I am sure you are all wondering why I have assembled you here today." She continued, "Sadly, I must convey my disappointment in your conduct with our neighbouring school. The unwarranted prank committed by certain individuals will not go unpunished. Too many have been left suffering. Hundreds even." She paused to cast her gaze over the room.

What the woman was saying sounded familiar but I could not remember why. My brain was still stubborn in its fuzziness.

Suddenly, she looked right at me, "Miss Griffin, stand up and come forward"

I glanced around, expecting to see my fellow students staring and gawking at me in a form only teenagers can accomplish. Instead, they continued to look at the woman with glassed eyes.

"Miss Griffin, stand up and come forward", she repeated in the same tone.

A large crash sounded somewhere behind me just as I built the courage to stand up.

My row happened to be in the middle of the room but column wise I was sitting furthest away from the door with my desk pressed against the opposite wall, brushing my left shoulder. That is probably what saved me from dying in the first five seconds.

At first nothing happened. Nobody walked through the double doors that swung open. Just silence. Perhaps it was nothing but another prank to anger The Woman.

Then the five people closest to the entrance died instantaneously through sprays of liquid crimson that arched high, touching the ceiling. The students finally came to life as the resulting chaos ensued. Pieces of bone, organs and brain matter joined the blood as the next collection of teenagers died. At least ten people dead in as many seconds.

I stood up knocking my chair over. People ran in my direction, desperate to get away from the killer. Tables upturned. Chairs forgotten. Limbs clawing and flailing. One boy pushed a girl too young to be there to the ground after she got in his was. He trampled on her as did the people behind him. Her skull never had the chance.

I moved away from the desk and headed to the stage. I glanced back to see what was causing this distraction. Red streaked amongst the blood. Blending in it. Moving with it. Spilling it.

It was shapeless and small. Just a little bit bigger than a quarter of my size. Though it did not touch the floor as far as I could see. The best description I could give is that it was a floating orb. Translucent one second then solid the next. Smooth one second then hairy the next. Fast one second then slow the next.

It killed six more people in the moment it took me to look at it.

I reached the stage alone. I could have sworn there were people running around me. With me . But now they were crowed at the door. Pushing against each other in their stampede to escape. Only half of my fellow teenagers were left and that number was quickly dropping as they clogged up the door. Their desire to live was killing them.

The Red Thing was advancing. Slowly this time. Honed in on me.

I vaulted onto the stage. Ran to the door leading Backstage. It was locked. I banged into it with my shoulder but it wouldn't budge. The Red Thing reached the stage. I ran from one side of the platform to the other. Doing a broad semicircle around It. My running start managed to make a decent amount of distance for my leap. A quick look back told me that The Red Thing had continued on its journey. Most likely targeting The Woman who disappeared the moment It arrived.

I had to get to the doors to help my friends escape before there was no one left to save. The pile up had gotten bigger. They were _crushing_ each other. _I have to get to the doors now!_ My feet skidded along the blood soaked floor in my haste.

At the base of the small human hill, I grabbed the person closest and hoisted them up onto their feet, seeing nothing but scrapes and bruises for injuries. It only got harder after that.

"Everybody!" I shouted over the screaming, "You have to calm down or none of us will ever get out of here alive!" I pulled a boy from under the pile by his arm. Yanking and yanking until he was free. Too bad he was already dead.

My hands were slippery with sweat and blood. Bruise after bruise blossomed on my body as people knocked into me.

I reached through the crowd until I touched the back of one of the three people wedged into the door jamb. They were the cause for the blockage. Like pulling out a plug in a bathtub, I gave a slight push and freed the owner of the back. Through small gaps between shoulders I could see that my action made them only stumble rather than fall, allowing them to run into the hall. At least one person made it.

I stepped back and to the side so I wouldn't get caught into the raging stream. By using my arms to give directions and small pushes when needed, I managed to free a good portion of my terrified friends.

No way was I leaving until they are all out!

The last person to get escape was a girl a few inches taller than me. While crossing the doorway, she turned as if to say thank you for helping her. The widening of her brown eyes was all I needed to know what was behind me.

The last thing I saw was The Red Thing advancing on top of me. The last thing I felt was bursts of excruciating pain from every inch of my body. The last thing I heard was my scream, gurgled by the blood surging up into my mouth.


	2. Repetition

**Enjoy!**

 **Repetition**

The world came into focus as I lifted my head from the desk.

The school's table was old but obviously well maintained. There was not one piece of graffiti on it, save for s single, long word. I tried to read it but someone had smudged it too much. I wondered for a second if that was me

I allowed my attention to drift to the lower part of my body which tingled in it numbness. Luckily that was quickly fading. I rubbed my sweating hands along my jean covered thighs to rid the remaining tingling.

I took a gander at my watch to check the time. The small hand was pointed at three but the big hand was moving anti-clockwise at a rapid pace. I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and middle finger until the illusion was erased.

 _Alright, it's already past three. This will be over soon and I can go back to...go back to..._

A feminine voice broke through my haze. She'd been speaking for a while now according to the crisp tone of her voice. I could not understand how I did not notice earlier.

The Woman in the muddy green dress stood on a typical Proscenium stage with a wooden podium before her. She pressed her hands on it when she said, "Students! Students, I require silence!"

I looked around the high-school gymnasium to see a large group of students sitting at numerous rows of desks identical to mine. None of them had spoken as far as I could tell. Just featureless faces staring blankly at our teacher; _or was she the principle?_ I had the idea that I'd known these people for years. Learned, laughed and argued with them. And yet I could not recognise a single one. _Actually, that's not true..._ A few seats to my right sat a boy who was awfully familiar. Something about the arch of his nose struck something in me. _If only he would turn his head towards me-_

 _How do I know what a high-school gymnasium looks like?_ The abrupt thought took me by surprise. I could not figure out where it had come from. Of course I would be able to identify my own school.

The Woman spoke again before I could delve into contemplation, "I am sure you are all wondering why I have assembled you here today. Sadly, I must convey my disappointment in your conduct with our neighbouring school. The unwarranted _prank_ committed by certain individuals will not go unpunished. Too many have been left suffering. Hundreds...thousands" She paused to scrutinise her audience before looking directly at me. I stopped myself from recoiling back.

"Miss Griffin, stand up and come forward". I wanted to stand up, to do as I was told. There was no need to cause needless trouble this close to graduation. But there was a look in her eye. A self satisfied look that knew something I didn't. That looked... _hungry_.

When I didn't move she repeated herself, "Miss Griffin, stand up and come forward".

A vibrant crash went off in the back of the large room, where the entrance was situated. I bolted out of my seat to see what happened.

Eight people died before the double doors could sing open all the way. Their blood sprayed out in different directions creating an oddly beautiful fountain. Frightened teenagers ran this way and that. Trying to get away from what ever the hell was killing them. Killing us.

The stage was my only escape route so I took. Only direction away from _It._ In my short sprint, I passed the familiar boy as he inadvertently stomped on a fallen girl much younger than either of us. Her hand- covered in blood that might have been hers- reached out to me. _Pleading_. The crowd consumed her before I could even think about helping her.

It was right behind her corpse. Flying through writhing bodies. Ripping them apart until nothing was left. A streak of blood splashed onto my face. A little went into my mouth. The Thing was small. About half my size. I almost didn't see it, camouflaged in the red. Oddly enough, it's appearance did not shock me.

It was coming for me now.

At the stage I jumped on. Nearly whacking my chin in my rush. I didn't bother with the Backstage door. Instead I circled around the platform to reach the opposite end. My sprint didn't stop even as I leapt off the elevated floor. The Red Thing gave no notice.

I ran to the double doors that instantly became the only available exit. I only stumbled once, on what might have been a male torso.

Those that were left standing bombarded the doors. Pushing and pulling until they were stuck in this nightmare.

When I reached the blockage, I lifted someone who had just fallen down. I thought he fell because he was pushed. Turned out it was because he was dead. Blood seeped from a hole where his heart would be.

I almost cried from the insanity of it. One of us must have killed him. Murdered him! Just because he was in the way.

Yet his death did create a tiny sliver of space between the pulsating mass. Just big enough for someone small to squeeze through. Someone like me.

But I couldn't! I couldn't possibly leave these people to die. _Not again!- **Again**?_ If I did not stay and help these petrified teenagers, they would die. I could feel that deep in my bones.

But there was something else. I knew that to stay meant my death. _I would die and have to do this all over-. What? Have to do what?_

I shot through the gap and landed on the other side of the door way. I abandoned them.

I wanted to glance back. To see what I have left behind. But I would be as Lot's Wife. Turned to a pillar of salt; damned to watch those I had forsaken. So instead I listened to their screams. The crunch of their bones. Their blood splattering on the walls

I just kept running down the hall that held no doors. With no form of decoration. Nothing but white walls over a white floor. I didn't care, I just kept running. Running and running and running. I wasn't even getting tired. Silence sprinted through the hall and caught up to me. The shock of it made me slip. Who knew blood could be so slick? I landed on my knees. _Hard_. The silence kept on.

I didn't have a choice, I had to look back. I had to see if there was anyone still alive.

There was no one left. Nothing was alive in that hallway. Nothing but The Red Thing, just before It killed me.

* * *

The world came into focus as I lifted my head from the desk.

I had the world's worst headache; electricity shot through my right frontal lobe. I dug the heals of my hands until the ache was replaced with white lights dancing behind my lids.

I blinked the blurriness from my eyes and looked at the table made of wood and metal underneath me. It was brand new, stable, with a nicely done varnish finish. Graffiti artists had not gotten to it yet. Well, except for one. Right in the centre of the rectangle sat one word. It's neat font was made clearer by the bold, black ink it was written in.

 **Prometheus**

I used my finger to trace the letters. _Pro-mee-thee-us_. _Looks important_. I half expected a beam of sunlight to shine on the word wither the backing of a church choir.

I had a memory- a little out of my reach- of learning about the word. _No, not word, man. A man who was not a man. A man who was a... **Titan**_

"Students! Students, I require silence!"

The voice attempted to tug me from my musing but I wouldn't let it. This word was important. I just knew it.

 _Ok Clarke, focus on that memory, what did you learn about the Titan._ The memory in itself was confusing. I kept trying to envision it taking place in a classroom not too dissimilar from the ones I go to today. On the contrary, I saw walls made from metal when they should have been made from concrete. Breathed recycled oxygen when I should have inhaled fresh air. Thinking about it brought back my headache with vengeance. But it also supplied a sense of relief, oddly enough.

 _He was famous because...he was punished. Punished for something big...so his punishment was equally tragic..._

"I am sure you are all wondering why I have assembled you here today." I did not feel this wonder she spoke of. "Sadly, I must convey my disappointment in your conduct with our neighbouring school," her droning voice went on, "The unwarranted _attack_ committed by certain individuals will not go unpunished. Too many have been left to die. Thousands upon thousands"

All I heard from her short speech was the word "die". I was too busy deciphering the puzzle etched in handwriting peculiarly comparable to mine. _A bird! A giant bird ate his...eyes out? No that's not right...his...internal organs? Yes! Specifically his liver! That's the moment I learned where the liver was in the human body. Everyday he would have to sit on top of a mountain and let a giant, damn, bird eat him **alive**._

I could remember a time when I got a little older and more comfortable with my medical knowledge, that I overheard the story again. Being my too-analytical self, I couldn't shake the thought that if a man were to feel the same pain all day every day for years on end, then logically he would get used to it. Eventually. His nerve endings would fry and no longer be able to transmit data to his nervous system. _So...really, it is not much of a tragedy after all. Unless you think boredom is a form of torture._ **What if his body wasn't given the chance to get used to the pain? What if there is more to the story?** A small voice that wasn't mine, asked these questions from deep within my subconscious. It almost sounded masculine.

 _Wait!...wait...Oh God..._

"Miss Griffin-" I sprung from my seat before she had the chance to finish her command. Only now did I pick up upon her clothing. Her dress was a deep, dark green that you could only find in wood like areas. Because of that and the spindles of darker green coursing up her body and long, dark brown hair, The Woman looked like a tree, of all things.

 _Oh God!_

Everything finally fit into place. Like reading the concluding chapter of an overly complicated mystery novel.

Back then, the logical side of my brain pointed out the plot holes of the Prometheus myth, the creative side filled it in. When the sun rose and his horrendous wounds were healed, so was his mind. At every dawn, the memory of the day before was erased hence his agony was brand new. Everyday entailed the purging of it's predecessor. An endless loop. An eternal death.

The revelation transformed into a key. A key that opened my own locked memories. Like Prometheus, I was stuck repeating the same few minutes over and over and over again. Sometimes things varied but it was the end that remained constant. _I must have died dozens...no, hundreds of times!_

I broke out into a sweat as my breathing became laboured, causing my trachea to constrict painfully; My stomach did cartwheels to prepare for a violent vomiting; My heartbeat picked up ten fold and became erratic. _Palpitations...am I having a heart attack?_ I sniffed the air and flexed my left arm. Apparently warning signs for a heart attack often included the patient smelling cooked bread while feeling an odd sensation course through their left arm. Unfortunately I hadn't reached that section of my apprenticeship before I got locked up. _No. This is a panic attack. Just keep breathing. In through the nose...out through the mouth. In...out...in...out..._

"Miss Griffin, stand up and-", The Woman repeated once more. I took a second to note how odd it was that she told me to stand up when I already had; then I surged to the right, past students who continued to ignore me, continued to watch Her with vague interest.

Stopping In front of him, I was amazed that I hadn't figured out who he was before. He still had that dark brown hair, long enough to annoy his eyes. Still had those eyes that shifted in distrust even now. The only difference was that he was clean and not covered in cuts.

The doors at the back of the large, large room exploded open. This time I was able to watch as It killed the ten people sitting closest to It's entrance. They weren't even given the chance to react to the loud sound behind them.

Everyone else began running. I grabbed him. Hauled him out of the chair and pushed him forward. At first he just stood there. What ever controlled our thoughts, movements and feelings was lagging. Then he ran to the left.

He was running to that girl. That girl he killed dozens of times before. I grabbed him by the collar afore he got to far. I pushed and dragged him where I wanted him to go. The stage.

Someone sprayed something thick and warm all over our backs. It shaped into my hair. Dyeing it into a new colour. What looked like brain matter flew past my head. Brushing against my left cheek. Like a chaste kiss. We were loosing time. The Red Thing was getting closer

He wanted to go left. To continue the script written for him. By chance, that script didn't involve fighting anyone who deterred him from it. I jumped onto the stage first. Pulling him up strained my back but he wasn't too heavy. The Red Thing nearly got to him. In the same fluid motion that got him where he needed to be, I kicked the wooden podium The Woman used towards The Red Thing. I didn't stop to see if it slowed It down.

He slowly seemed to snap out of his haze. At least enough to do as I did. We ran the length of the platform in the shape of an arch. I figured I had survived this section unscathed every rerun I did, so I might as well continue to conform to the performance.

The Red Thing was already centre stage by the time we jumped off.

His landing was bad. My vice like grip kept him from losing his momentum.

I didn't think about the blood under our feet. That there was enough to slosh along with our steps. I stepped on something. Perhaps a bone shard. A shock of pain went up my leg but I ignored.

 _Just keep running. Worry about it when you get out of here. We are **not** going to die again._

This time The Girl was amongst those that crowded the door. She lingered near the back. As if unsure what to do. I put him next to The Girl off to the side. He couldn't possibly harm her now. Like before, I started pulling the fallen into standing positions. Deposited them with him and The Girl. They would be safe there until it was time.

I pushed my hand through the resulting minuscule, empty space. A little too forcefully. I didn't have time. I was already far behind schedule. _The Red Thing will be here any second!_ I felt a crack swim through my middle finger as I pushed the back of one of the people blocking the only exit. She stumbled through the door, falling onto her hands and knees.

I fell with her. On top of her. Putting my hands over our heads, I took ever kick, every heavy step as teenagers flooded out to freedom. I prayed that bruises would be my only gift.

At its completion, I rolled away from the girl and watched her stand and scamper off. I gave myself less than a second to breathe then bolted back into the gymnasium. The Girl was gone. He was still standing there. Exactly were I left him. Staring wide eyed, mouth gaping at The Red Thing coming to kill him.

 _It's so much larger now. Bigger than me even!_

I yanked on his arm and ran with him to the hall. Through the exit.

My breathing wasn't doing very well. My throat felt like someone was gripping it in their fist. At first I was running in front of him but now I was trailing behind. Farther than comfortable. I looked down to our joined hands. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if I broke the connection, he would stop running. He would stop and let It take him. Because that is what _they_ wanted him to do. The people who put us in this God forsaken place.

If he were to die, I would let It take me too. And start this all over again. I couldn't leave without him. _Not this time._

I gripped his hand tighter.

I chanced looking back but nothing was there. The Red Thing wasn't tailing us. I couldn't even see the doors we used to get out.

 _Finally. A break!_

White, white, white. Nothing but white, shiny concrete. _There has to be somewhere out of here. A door? A window? At least a turn off!_

Just as I thought that, I immediately saw a corner in the wall bend to right a little bit in the distance.

"Right! Right! Turn right!" We had the option to continue forward but for some reason that seemed to be a terrible choice.

He turned as I bid him which forced me to look at his back. The red that covered it was oddly appealing. It blended nicely with the brown of his hair. I could have done without the piece of flesh sticking to the back of his ear though.

That is when I noticed that all the walls had turned to glass. The floor was pretty much the same, if not slightly greyer. I could now see the doors to the gymnasium. All the way from where we were positioned. We must have been springing for a good five minutes.

The next five mostly consisted of turning into different corridors. Sometimes I would shout where to go, other times he seemed to know already. At our speed, we should have run into someone by now but the never ending hallway was completely empty. _Are we the last people left?_

I slowed us to a pause when we reached a staircase going down. He swung to look at me, the first time he had done so in who knows how long. His eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"We don't know where this goes" I replied to his expression. He shrugged, silently reminding me that that hadn't stopped us previously. He tugged on my hand.

"Do you remember who we are?" I asked. I needed to know where I stood with him before I took another step.

He took a moment to think, staring off to the side, "I thought I did. But I...I can't think of my name...or anything that happened before today. I'm trying, but it hurts my head." He finished his whispered words with a quick rub on his forehead.

"Me too. It's like my name is on the tip of my tongue but not at all. Like trying to remember the name of a character from an old book."

He nodded, understanding. I nearly grinned at him. It felt good to know that we are on the same page. So to speak.

"Didn't she...didn't she call you Griffin"

"Yeah, She did. But I have no idea what my first name is. Or if Griffin is even really my last name." He nodded in understanding again.

"Do you remember repeating this day? Running from that Thing before?" I asked. He shook his head, confused once more. _That's good. He doesn't remember killing that girl._

"Alright", I said, feeling determination slowly rise within me, "let's get the hell out of here. Then we can find out who we are and who put us in this place." I moved forefront again and lead him down the stairs.

He squeezed my hand

 **-L-**

 **-P-**

 **So here is the 2nd chapter.**

 **What do you guys think? Do you want me to keep going or is it a giant pile of poop.**

 **Either way, have a Super Day! =D**

 **P.S. In case you were wondering, this Horror part of the story does not last forever.**


	3. The Selfish and The Selfless

**I have no idea what I'm doing sooooo…Enjoy!**

 **The Selfish and The Selfless**

We opted for gradually walking down the stairs rather running. I didn't want to risk slipping on the slippery steps, made so by seemingly hundreds of people bathed in blood. We were on a single, continuing staircase crafted from opaque glass. There was no end to it as far as I could see.

 _Speaking of which..._ The lighting in both the hallway and stairwell was bright and held a soft, natural touch. It caressed us in an attempt to smooth our sharpened edges, as a mother would. It did so in vain. I looked around for the light's source. There was none and I don't remember seeing one during our sprint down the hall.

 _Nothing in this place makes any sense._

He hadn't made a sound since we last spoke. The confused dip in his eyebrows was gone. In fact, all expression had removed it's self from his face. His eyes had lost their shine, akin to the time The Woman spoke. It unnerved me to no end.

 _How is it that he can just switch in and out of lucidity without a moment's notice?_

I already extracted his hand from my own and placed it on my shoulder. I didn't want to lose track of him but I also wanted to leave an opening to get away. Just in case.

 _I need him to help me escape and discover my identity, but I'm not going to just trust him implicitly._

For a second The Boy locked his gaze with mine, his light eyes knowing. I couldn't tell if he was offended or amused.

"You know what really scares me? What I can't stop thinking about?" I asked. Breaking the longest bout of silence we've had yet. He didn't reply which I was grateful for. I needed someone to talk to but I didn't want them to make any sort of reply.

 _Anything they might say would just make this all the more_ _ **real**_ _._ And I wasn't ready for that yet.

"What scares me is that…I just watched all those people die -get ripped apart by something _thing_ \- yet I'm not crying in a corner freaking the hell out! I mean I am, freaking out, but not as much as I should be... I think, even when this started, I wasn't amazed that there's someone, something out there that might just show up to kill me and everyone I know…Comfortable isn't the right word but I definitely felt a sort of _familiarity_ standing in a room full of dead." I paused for a moment, wondering if I was scaring The Boy; wondering if I cared. I finished my outwardly thought with, "What kind of person was I?"

He didn't answer. Our descent continued.

Twenty minutes later and my legs were shouting their ache. Specifically the left one. Adrenaline had long since dried up. Pain returned with a cruel wrath. The hole-like, unevenness of my shoe sole told me that that possible bone shard had injured me much more than I previously believed. It must have pierced the shoe before traveling through my foot to touch a fellow bone. My stomach twisted at the thought. I forced my eyes to remain up, onto my right hand that was trailing along the wall for support. My increasing limp hindered our pace.

After another five minutes we reached the bottom. I didn't realise at first and lurched forward at the last step, slamming my injured foot onto the ground. I clamped my hands over my mouth to stop the scream erupting. He continued to stand passively behind me.

What we found was undeniable truth that I had just gone insane and all of this was happening inside my head.

"Is that a...?" I began.

"The Phoenix Rollercoaster! I love this ride!"

I started at The Boy exclamation. I had almost forgotten he could speak, that he was capable of feeling excitement.

The 'Phoenix Rollercoaster' consisted of one large compartment- it didn't have that snake-like structure most rides have- and took up the entire space of the room. Just five rows of four, it was a very aesthetically appealing with its sleek, black shine. In fact the entire thing was coloured in the same shade of onyx, even the leather seats. Seats that were all filled with living people. Except for two.

18 teenagers turned to look at us. Waiting for us to join them.

He moved onward but I grabbed his arm, "What are you doing? We don't know what this thing is or where it goes! Doesn't it alarm you that a freaking _Rollercoaster_ is in the same place we thought was a high-school only an hour ago?"

The Boy didn't respond, just pulled his arm from my grip. I stood there, keeping my weight off my left foot and watched as he climbed in. He joined the others in their blank gawk.

I did _not_ want to join him. _This is way too crazy._ The more things lost sense, the more confused I got. The more confused I got, the more nervous I got.

I bit my lip. Kneading it didn't provide any form of comfort but it helped me concentrate.

 _I_ _ **really**_ _don't want to get in there. This might take us to_ _ **Them**_ _. Gift wrapped in shiny, black paper. But at the same time...the only other option is to backtrack right into that_ _ **Thing**_ _. Walk right up to It and give it a nice hug. So…I can go back and die or I can get in and_ _ **probably**_ _die._

I shook my head. _What a great selection of choices._ I limped to the Theme Park ride.

The only seat left was located in the front row, closest to me so I wouldn't have to climb over anyone with my wound. My chair was surprisingly comfortable. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and ignored everyone and everything around me. It felt so incredibly good just to sit down. I inhaled and exhaled deeply awaiting for a sense of calm that would never arrive.

The Rollercoaster gave a slight lurch. My eye lids snapped up in time to see a large number **five** appear on a screen above our heads. A loud, low beep sounded as it turned to **four**.

Metal harnesses appeared out of nowhere and covered our bodies with a soft click.

 **Four** gave way to **three**. Another pair of large doors opened ahead of us. The other side was nothing but darkness.

"I can't see any tracks!" I shouted to The Boy but that only seemed to excite him.

 **Two**

I gripped the sides of my harness. Locked my legs together and pushed my head further into the leather.

 **One**

The machine took off at top speed. It didn't need any form of buildup. It is impossible to describe how incredibly fast it moved into the black. My eyes instantly teared up. Liquid moving towards my hairline then dried to nothing in the same second. I'm sure I was screaming but my ability to hear was obviously too slow and got left behind. All there was, was an incessant ringing.

My peripherals saw The Boy laughing in glee.

My head lulled from side to side as the ride turned. It started to feel awfully light, floating past the clouds. My muscles turned to jelly, making my limbs useless. It was almost like falling asleep.

A speck of light appeared in the distance right as I lost consciousness.

* * *

I woke up in the same position I passed out in: sitting up right with my head inclined on the back of my seat. The similarities stopped there.

This time my table was twice the size of the initial one and made entirely of wood. It was pushed against three other matching tables, creating a sort of island for four people to sit and face each other in pairs. There were four other paralleling stations.

I was in a classroom. This time three were large windows along to my left that permitted bright light to flow in. It catered to Art from the decor of my surroundings.

The walls were swamped with papers of charcoal drawings; meadows, lakes, hills, trees, flowers, any and all forms of nature were well represented in that room. The drawings were exceptional. Realistic, even with their black and white medium.

In the middle of each 'island' stood tubes of colourful paint; strewn about charcoal; boxes of different sized brushes; used mixing plates; cups of dirty water and lots and lots of stationary.

 _This is Heaven!_

I actually smiled. Felt excitement at the thought of filling the paper on my desk with beautiful images. To contentedly spend hours in that room until there isn't a single blank page left.

 _I've been meaning to try my hand at portraits. I just didn't have the right materials. The right person… Maybe I should do it entirely in oil paint. No, that's not a good medium to start painting with. Or I could use two different ones! Like, I can do subject in rough charcoals while the background can be done in...water colors? I'm not usually comfortable with-_

Unintentionally, I uncrossed my legs so my left foot met the ground. Searing pain ricocheted up my leg. I nearly bit my tongue off from the shock. The pain not only halted my thoughts, but woke me up as well. _Truly_ woke me up.

For a moment there, I almost let the haze back in. Almost forgot again.

I pressed my foot further against the tiled floor. Increasing my pain. I could not allow that to happen ever again. If I had to suffer to keep myself right of mind, then so be it.

The Boy was sitting next to me, staring at a paint palette as if he didn't know what it was. His hair was different- slicked back in rivulets as opposed to hanging down, around his face- I thought it suited Him more.

Across from The Boy was that Girl. She looked the exact same as she did before. Minus the blood. I thought to call to her, but from the way she paid no attention to her surroundings, I got the impression she wouldn't hear me. It appeared that there was some who could find clarity (such as The Boy and I) and others who could not.

Sitting to The Girl's left was a man. Not _old_ , but older than anyone else in the room. I couldn't stop staring at him; he looked so out of place. The Man was tanned, much more than my stark, pale skin. He was completely bald, excluding the streak of short hair on the top of his head. The Man repeatedly dipped his fingers in tubes of warm coloured paint then danced them around his paper which was an aged brown rather than the classic off-white. Concentration was written across his face as he inclined closer and closer to his creation.

 _Any moment now and he'll be kissing it._

The feeling that I had once known The Man was even stronger than the one I had for The Boy. Something told me that I have once bared witness to both his weakest and strongest moments.

No one spoke. No idle chatter, scandalous gossip or raucous laughter. Just scratches of pencils on papers.

 _As if a classroom would ever be this quiet._ I focused on the absurdity of it. My brain was still addicted to the idea of forgetting. Of letting myself believe in everything around me. _But it_ _ **can't**_ _be real. It can't. It can't. It can't. It can't..._

"Hey", I loudly whispered to The Man, leaning in. Disrupting the silence seemed unwise,

" _Hey_ ". He didn't stop his furious finger painting,

I reached over and tapped on his desk, "Do you know me?"

 _That stopped him._

The Man steadily moved his hands to rest on either side of the paper. His deliberate stare sent a chill up my spine. I definitely knew this man. I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

The Man analysed each feature that composed my face. He seemed to find something that agreed with him, "Maybe".

I nodded, getting excited. "Do you know him?" I pointed towards The Boy.

 _"_ Maybe", The Man said again after giving The Boy the same once over.

 _Cryptic. Great. Just what I need._

"What about the girl next to you. Do you know her?"

He studied The Girl a lot longer than he did us.

The Man turned to me again and shook his head. I nodded again. Thankful that he knew more than the word 'maybe' and understood what I was asking him.

"Do you...want to stay here? Or do you want to leave?" I asked

His eyes lost focus as he rubbed his brow. I could tell the question made his head hurt, just as it did mine. It felt like a lightning strike bouncing around in my skull. Whoever _They_ were, they didn't want us to even think against them.

"I...do not know."

 _Good enough for me._

The Man's confusion was starting to upset him therefore I stopped pushing. I wasn't going to anger him further and risk his cooperation. I nodded and gave what I hoped to be a reassuring smile.

An unknown man approached our quartet. He surprised me so much that I nearly screamed. Instead I jumped to attention in my seat and tried to wipe the 'caught-in-the-Cookie-Jar' expression from my face. Everyone I had yet to meet was apathetic in their expressions so I hoped I would fit in with my own.

His brunette hair was made darker by his sickly pale skin. If I didn't know better, I would have thought he had never been introduced to them Sun. His skin tone blended in with the smart, white suit he wore. The most defining aspect of his face was definitely the scar on his upper lip. The more he looked at me, the more his sneer grew.

He stood with his hands behind his back and leaned in a little too close for comfort, "Miss Griffin, you have not started your task yet".

I looked at my blank sheet of paper but refrained from replying. He continued, "Whether you want to do it is of no importance. More often than not, we are compelled to do things that under different circumstances we believe ourselves incapable, but do so anyway because we _have_ to. Because the alternative is so. Much. Worse. Sometimes, there is no right path. Sometimes, you have to choose what is best for you and yours, no matter the consequences. Down here, selfishness is good. It keeps you alive. Do you understand, Miss Griffin? Selfish Good. Selfless Bad. Selfish Good. Selfless Bad."

I nodded even though I didn't understand and had no idea what any of that had to do with Art.

He gripped my shoulder a little too tightly, "Make sure to stay in your seat, Miss Griffin. We wouldn't want any accidents". He smiled and gave me a pat before moving on to the next group of four.

I let out a long, low breath.

 **I hope you liked it! =D**


	4. Black is the New Red

**Hey everyone, thanks so much for sticking with it! You guys are so amazing! You honestly have no idea how happy it makes me just seeing the number of people reading each chapter.**

 **I'd like to thank SammyStarFly for your review. You reminded me to do something I completely forgot to do so thanks for that.**

 **Sorry about any errors, I'm kinda new to this whole Fanfiction thing so I'm learning as I go. Any pointers or feedback would be sooooo appreciated.**

 **This is the longest chapter so far, nearly reaching 6,000. It might seem that I'm trying to gradually increase the quantity of my chapters but this is just due to how I want to structure the story. The next one might just be 1,000 words so I hope you don't mind. Though I doubt the next one will be so short**

 **Anyway, enough boring talk. Enjoy and have a Super day! =D**

* * *

 **Black is the New Red**

"What was that about?" I asked after The Pale Teacher was out of hearing range. He put his hand on the back of another student's neck –who did not react- and gave me a glance. Then continued on his rounds.

"Looks like he's got his eye on you", replied The Boy, twirling a paint brush between his fingers though badly. The item kept dropping onto the table with an annoying "clack".

 _And it looks like you're back to normal again._

The Man was already back to finger painting when he said, "Not good".

From what I could comprehend, The Boy switched between clarity and non-clarity at random. The Man, on the other hand, was constantly between the two states. As if he was stuck in that place amid sleeping and waking. He was dreaming but conscious enough to know that; thus he was capable of controlling his thoughts, actions and speech. At least a little bit.

The Pale Teacher began to tear down the charcoal drawings that decorated walls. He let them drop to the floor but from where I was sitting I couldn't see where they landed. The fewer pictures there were, the more I could see of the walls. They were a dark grey and glinting in the natural light, almost metallic. For some reason, staring at them made me feel trapped, stifled.

I freed myself by ripping my gaze away from The Pale Teacher and landed them on my desk. A number I hadn't detected before was written onto a piece of paper and taped onto the top left of my table, **319**. I was number 319.

I found it hard to breathe and had no idea why. Everything about this environment made me want to run away and never come back.

I moved my eyes again and forced myself to watch The Man's deft fingers move across his busy page. That calmed me. Art always did. At least that's something I _did_ know for certain.

From the way he moved them so quickly, you might think he was making images at random without thought, but I could tell it was not so. His digits had a precision that I was envious of. Whatever it was that he was creating, he was using a piece of his heart to do it.

From the corner of my eye I saw The Pale Teacher walk to the front of the class room, next to a busy desk. He clapped his hands to gather his student's attention.

"It looks like our time has come to an end", he began. I glanced around to see a clock but found none. "I know this news fills you with unimaginable grief. Some will find it took difficult to leave while others...", his eyes locked with mine and stayed there for the duration of his closing speech, "will do anything they can to come back. But do not worry! It is the end but only for now. I have taught you all I can for the present and can proudly say that your education is coming along fantastically" he smiled and turned out to be even more frightening, " Just before you go out and run wild, I want you to know that we will be with you, every step of the way. Watching you. Nurturing you. After all, we wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" He clapped his hands again to show his soliloquies' completion.

In the same beat, students around the room stood up and started chanting. The only people that remained seated were The Boy, The Man and myself. We stayed discreet though The Man was mumbling something that might have been the same few words as the mindless students. Initially, I hadn't a clue what they were saying. They were loud and clear but the language was not English. I was having trouble separating the long bouts of sound into separate, distinguishable words.

Then The Boy stood up and started chanting too, slamming his foot down to add to the rhythm. His voice was filled with passion but his face was filled with apathy.

He aided me with my confusion. They were shouting, "Jus drein, Jus daun. Jus drein, Jus daun. Jus _drien_ , Jus _daun_ ". The Pale Teacher stood there, basking in the energy, smiling his smile.

For a second, I wanted to join them.

The chanting stopped abruptly. Silence reigned once again.

The Boy sat down and actually looked sheepish for his contribution. It was obvious he did not understand what he had just done.

When he calmed down, I asked him what the words meant. I believed if he so readily said it along with a mob of people, then it made sense that he could translate it for me. But he couldn't, instead he indicated to my blank piece of paper with his head and said, "I thought you could tell me".

My blank piece of paper wasn't so blank anymore. In my closed fist I found a large red marker. It was still moving across the page before my other hand stopped it. My handwriting on the top of the sheet was neat and small. The further down it went the bigger and more erratic it became with a thicker font as if I was roughly stabbing the page with the marker.

The same phrase was written roughly a hundred times, _"Blood must have blood"_.

I wrote some horrific phrase multiple times without even noticing. I extracted the pen from my dominant left hand then rubbed it to calm my discomfort.

The Pale Teacher exited the room through a door that didn't exist while I was distracted. So did everyone else apart from my new, sort of, companions. The three of us were finally alone. I could question them without fear of discovery. I let out a relieved sigh but stopped when I saw what replaced them.

It was outside, floating high enough to be visible through the window. It was bigger than before, big enough to block the incoming light and pack the entire room with a dark, transparent red. An image came to mind, of guns pointing at me until I was buried in Red Dot Sights.

Although it had no eyes, I just _knew_ that The Red Thing was staring right at me.

I slumped down low and planted my feet on the ground, positing myself so I could stand and run at a moment's notice. The Boy was 'awake' -thank God- and had also noticed our strange new light scheme. I slowly put a hand on his knee under the table to let him know that I was just as aware as him. When he turned to me, I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed how soundless and unmoving I wanted him to be. He gave me a slight nod.

To The Man I whispered, "I don't want to panic you, but I need you to stop painting. In fact, it would be great if you could stop moving", my voice betrayed my panic rather than convey the calm I wanted it to.

He ignored me. I tried again a fraction louder, " _Please_! I need you to _stop_ and look at. _Now_!"

That worked. His head snapped towards The Red Thing. A little too quickly for my liking. Fortunately It didn't react. Had yet to move.

"What do we do?" Asked The Boy.

I shook my head, "I don't know".

"You knew last time", he replied.

 _So he does remember._

"Yeah, well last time I had quite a bit of practice".

The Man decided that talking was of no help and started to stand. His movements were slow and fluid, like a beautiful panther slinking thought the trees.

 _That_ , The Red Thing noticed. It moved closer to the window.

"Stop! If we move at all, we move together. We only have one shot at this. Right?" I asked, keeping my eyes on It. They both nodded. "Do you see an exit?" I continued.

"What do mean? There's one right behind the big guy", replied The Boy.

"What? No there-", but there was. A simple silver door just standing where there was once nothing. I was sure there wasn't one there before; _actually, I'm not sure of anything anymore_.

"Okay...okay, this is what we are gonna do. When I count to three, you two will sprint to the door. _You_ ", I indicated to The Man, "are closest to the door so when you reach it first, open it for this guy before going through yourself", I theorised that his sheer size would be able to open the entrance even if it were locked. And close it behind him if something tried to get out.

"What are you going to do?" Asked The Man.

"This thing is fast. Faster than any of us. I'll run in the opposite room and distract It while you guys escape", I answered, swallowing my fear.

He must have known what I meant by 'distract' because he said, "No. We all go. Or we don't go".

I bit my lip, wondering if I should just agree to make him feel better then go on with my plan.

"He's right. You got us this far", The Boy chipped in. I thought he was joking but he looked sincere, "We all live, or we all die".

 _Well if you're both gonna gang up on me._

"Alright. Alright. Together", I said. **Together** , echoed that strange voice in my head.

During our conversation, The Red Thing moved closer.

 _Now or never_.

"You guys ready?" I put my hands on the table in preparation to launch myself up and over the desk. The Boy did something similar. The Man, who was already standing, bent his knees.

I ignored the part of me that worried that The Boy might go back to his 'sleeping' state; that The Man might suddenly find his painting to be more important than our lives and not make it to the door. If this didn't go perfectly we would definitely die. Again.

"One", I breathed, inhaling as deeply as I could to account for the bout of Hyperpnoea that comes with sprinting.

"Two", I leaned forward and put more weight onto my hands and feet.

"Three!"

I stood and jumped over my desk. My left hip slipped along the corner. The Red thing burst through the windows.

It's entry slowed down time.

Shards of glass stopped in mid fall. Twinkling like red stars all around me. I ran into the explosion of crystal and felt myself brush against the pieces, displacing them in the air. I must have been doing that one simple action for an hour at the excruciatingly slow pace everything was moving. To the left was The Red Thing, stopped in its advance by time. Its colour blared a shade of red more powerful than before, creating a hazy ring around it.

The Man was the last thing I could see and the fastest amongst us. He already managed to reach the door even at this speed. His arm reached out. Fingers extending to wrap around the door's knob. The muscle on his neck stood to attention. His eyes held the same determination as they did while he painted.

 _Just. A little. More_.

The instant his middle fingers touched the metal knob, time righted itself again. Sound returned too. The Boy shouted " _faster_!" then pushed me forward. I had no idea he was so close behind me.

The Red Thing zoomed past, just barely missing our backs.

The Man was now close enough to yank the door open so he did. Instead of passing through it, he grabbed my arm and pushed me over the threshold. After me came The Boy, then The Man.

The slamming of the door reverberated through the quiet, stark white hall.

 _Here we go again._

* * *

We walked because I refused to run down these damn hallways again.

We didn't talk, though occasionally The Boy would say something strange to The Man like, "Dude, I love your hair". The resulting replies consisted of nods or shakes of the head. Rarely The Man would actually speak and when he did, he used monosyllables.

The Boy had remained lucid since our second great escape.

"How much longer do ya think we'll have walk? My feet are killing me", he said.

 _Oh! My foot doesn't hurt_!

I didn't grasped it until he mentioned it but I felt no pain. In fact, I felt great. I glanced down and could find no trace of injury.

"How am I supposed to know? It's not like I have a map", I retorted.

"We draw near", The Man interjected softly.

"How do _you_ know?" The Boy asked.

The Man lifted one shoulder in a sort of shrug, "Sense it".

The next few minutes of walking was doused in silence. The Boy no longer felt comfortable interviewing his new companion and I found myself missing the distraction. I was left in the dark abyss that was my thoughts. Sucking me deeper and deeper until my chest hurt.

 _What if all this, is some kind of punishment? What if I'm here because I did something terrible? Something unforgivable? The Pale Teacher kept going on about being selfish versus being selfless. Was he talking about me? If so, then which am I? Which should I be? Do I deserve to get out?...Is there even an 'out' to get to?_

My incessant internal questioning deterred me from hearing the pitter-patter of rain straight away. A soft "ssshhhh" that told me that the water drops were light but many. A heavy mist.

"Do you hear that?" Asked The Boy.

I nodded, "Maybe it's a way out!" I couldn't help the excitement that bubbled up and walked faster.

I looked back to The Man to see what he thought. His eyebrows bent down in worry as he shook his head. The sound did no please him. He halted our group.

The noise grew in volume; deciding that if we were not going to it, then it would come to us.

The Man did not like this situation at all. He crouched down low and backed into us so we would recede back down the contrastingly dull hallway. It didn't matter, the "sssssssshhhhhh!", already reached us.

The rain did not derive from a cloud. In its place, it fell from the ceiling. Each drop visibly spawning on the smooth surface before dwindling down. It was ten meters away from us, volume increasing exponentially in greeting. Filling the hall with fog.

The rain was red. Not the thick, dark end of blood that I had seen nonstop every day.; the liquid still contained the consistency as water, it just had an added ingredient that brought about its aesthetic.

A strong current of red ran down the walls around us, melting away the white coating the way _acid_ would.

I felt a tug on my hand, "Get away from it", said The Man, "get away _now_!"

 _Don't need to tell me twice._

The three of us did an about face and sprinted down the direction we came from.

* * *

We ran down the hallway and took countless turns left and right for another age. Again.

I was starting to feel the burn in my thighs and labour in my lungs. The back of my neck was uncomfortable damp and clammy. I wished I had the time to stop and tie it up. This time running nonstop was affecting my body physically. Last time I could have run for hours without breaking a sweat.

"Wait! Stop! I need to stop", I said each word jammed between deep pants. I placed my hands on either side of my waist.

"We cannot. We must keep going", said The Man in his usual, clipped tone.

I glanced back to see that The Mist had yet to round the corner that stood a good distance away. Thankfully, we had a little breathing space.

"We can't keep going this way! We'll run right into that Thing!" I shouted, desperate.

"Better. Better than what is behind us," he replied, remaining in a calm that I was incredibly envious of.

"What do you mean? Do you know what that was?"

He shook his head, "But I know it is bad", he replied. I couldn't disagree with him.

"There has to be another way", I said quietly, more to myself than either of them.

"Well, if you have any ideas, I would love to hear them. I don't really feel like dying today. Maybe save that for tomorrow", quipped The Boy for the first time since we stopped.

"I don't want to either. Believe me. Just give me a second to think", I snapped back. He put his hands up in defeat while keeping an eye on the direction The Mist would emerge.

 _We can't go forward and we can't go back. Both directions mean some form of death. Most likely each equally horrific and excruciating. So running's out, there is nowhere to hide in an empty hallway and fighting is definitely a no. What do we do?!_ I rubbed the heal of my hand into my eyes.

 **If you're not satisfied with the path available, make a new one.** It was back. That voice in my head that couldn't be mine but had struck no doubt in my trust.

 _Of course! That's genius!_

I clenched my hands into a loose fist then started to bang it on the white wall closest to me.

"Sorry for interrupting your 'episode' but we don't really have time for you to lose your shit!" exclaimed the boy grabbing onto my shoulder to break me from my task.

"Wait! Can't you hear that? This entire section is hollow. I don't think there is anything on the other side of this wall!", I rapped on the surface again, it gave a loud "thunk!"

I started ramming my shoulder against the wall, trusting that my actions would explain better than words during this time constraint. The bend of my shoulder managed to create a dent but just barely.

"It is here", mumbled The Man while grabbing me by the arms and moving me out of the way. He subsequently started to kick at the wall with his foot around the place of dent. He really was a large man.

The Mist was sharing our hallway by the time The Man succeeded in ramming his foot through our latest obstacle. Seeing this spurred The Boy into action. He started kicking the wall with the other male.

I stood and watched as The Mist grew closer. Unlike The Red Thing, its pace remained constant which scared me more as it was rapidly reaching our small motley crew. Everything was drip, drip, dripping red, like a picture caught on fire, the melting paint running down to escape the frame. _I've been meaning to try my hand at painting_ …

 _If I take just one step forward and extend my hand, then I'll be able to touch it without_ really _touching. I'd know why we were so scared. Why I need to keep running. And it's so very pretty._

My companions were tearing at their growing crater, scratching and scratching like wild animals. They paid me no mind.

I took one step. Pushed my hand in front of me. Any second and flecks of mist would touch my fingers. Any second and I'll know. _Any second_.

"No!", shouted The Man, pulling me away, "It is time to go".

The Boy already escaped through the wall when The Man chose to push me through. For the second time in so many hours.

The Mist reached it's victims. Preparing to give The Man a friendly pat on the back.

Then I was falling.

* * *

With my memory consisting of only Whites and Reds, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when I landed in nothing but Black. Though I have to admit, I would have been appreciative if there was just a tad bit of light.

Regardless, I was surrounded in Black, Black and more Black. Turning my head this way and that, I could see nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not the nose on my face nor the hand that swept the air in search of contact.

The darkness' enveloped me in its comforting embrace, chasing away all things bad.

I debated standing up. The Boy and The Man (if he managed to flee from The Mist, and I prayed that he did) were most likely wandering around looking for me. _I should get up. I should get up and find them._

I drew my legs closer so my knees touched my chin. I rested my forehead on them and wrapped my arms tightly around the longer limbs. _I'll find them._

There was no smell in The Black. No sound and no smell. It felt like I was floating on a cloud. It occurred to me that I might have died. That death was this endless nothing. Surprisingly this did not scare me. Instead, I found myself nodding off.

A hand clasped onto my shoulder. I released a loud shriek while falling onto my side. My arm thumped against the floor I couldn't see.

"It is me".

The gruff voice and bizarre way he didn't use abbreviations almost made me cry in relief. If I was dead, it was nice to know I wasn't alone.

I grabbed onto The Man. Easy since he was the only thing visible. He seemed confused but did not move away.

"I thought The Mist got you", I said as way of explanation.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he said, "Almost". He was proud of himself. I was proud of him too.

I grinned at him, "You see the other guy?"

"Right here", said The Boy, walking towards our seated forms from the right.

He gave me his hand and helped me stand. I smiled because I could feel him. He was solid and real. Maybe I wasn't so dead after all.

"Where do you think we are now?" he asked us.

The Man shook his head while I said, "No idea".

The three of us stood there for a long moment before we started walking. There was no point discussing any sort of plan.

Sometimes, survival means moving forward without wasting on thoughts of tomorrow. Sometimes, that is all you have left to do.

The direction was completely random and since there was nothing but Black, we weren't even sure if we were walking in a straight line.

I didn't want to trap myself in silence so I asked them what they remembered of their lives. The Man's existence started in that Art Class. He told me painting was all he knew and all he wanted to know. I asked what he was painting when we met him. The Man just said "A strong woman", without elaborating. I didn't push.

The Boy remembered me. He remembered The Red Thing. He just had no memory of dying. I felt closer to him as he told The Man the story of our dance with The Red Thing; our endless running through hallways that were often made of glass; of our ride on what he still called 'The Phoenix Rollercoaster'. Right now, he knew me better than anyone else in the world. And I knew him.

Gradually, sparks of bright lights appeared all around us. The area above our heads to the area below our feet. I initially recoiled from them, thinking of the shards of glass that flew in the air when The Red Thing came. When they did naught but twinkle, I relaxed again.

Eventually there were thousands of them. Stars that should have provided a little light but instead made the Black all the darker.

"Are we in-", I began

"Don't say it", interrupted The Boy.

"-Space?", I finished.

"She said it".

"It brightens over there", said The Man, pointing to the left where there were more stars, "Should we approach it?"

I could tell he was asking me more than anyone else hence I quickly replied so The Boy wouldn't notice and take offence, "Might as well". _It's not like we actually have a choice._

The Stars congregated together into a Milky Way that twirled around us. It led us to a window.

Circular and large, it was framed by a thick, rusting, metal rim. It looked insane just floating there in a sea of stars. We couldn't see what was on the other side of the thick, tinted glass so The Man approached it.

I grabbed his arm, "We don't know what it is. What it means". Something about the use of metal as a building material was so incredibly unnerving. It reminded me of the bars of a cage.

He placed his hand over mine to comfort as well as extract, "It is time we find out".

The Man, so much braver than the rest of us, continued on with his intent. I didn't stop him. He reached the window then just stood there. Neither moving nor speaking.

"Well? What is it?" The Boy asked after the moment gave way to the next. The Man didn't reply.

I gingerly walked to stand next to him. Partly because I didn't want to startle The Man, but mostly because I did not wish to be anywhere near that Floating Window.

"Oh my God", I breathed.

"What? What is it? Is- Oh..." The Boy said as he moved next to us.

We three stood in a line of silence. I barely breathed, I was so much in shock.

On the other side of the Floating Window was not a black space of sparkling stars as logic would dictate. Instead there was a well-lit room. A white washed hospital type room with white various machines, gurneys and IV drips on metal stands. There was three of each. One for every occupant of the room.

The individual closest to us looked an awful like The Man. The same could be said for the patient in middle looking like The Boy and the one on the far end of the room might be mistaken for me.

"That's-", started The Boy

"No", I interrupted

"That's-",

"No!"

"Yes. It is us", interjected The Man with a low but authoritative tone.

"That's not possible! _We_ are us!" I pleaded, desperate for him to be wrong though knowing he wasn't.

"Yet it is so", he replied. His tone was calm but when I looked him in the eyes, I could see that the revelation made him sick.

Our doppelgängers seemed to be in some form of coma. They each had monitors that beeped along with their pulses. Tubes down our throats to pump oxygen in and carbon dioxide out. The Intravenous fluid continued to drip fluids into their bodies while catheter bags hung on the side of each bed. I could see no sign of external injury on any visible surface of skin; therefore I surmised that our brains were at fault.

"Is this what happens when you...end up...like that?" asked The Boy.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know the answer and I couldn't figure out what he needed to hear. I remained silent.

The heart monitors subtly increased.

Putting my left hand up, I was suddenly struck with the urge to touch the glass that separated us and them. Neither male stopped me as I touched the membrane with my middle finger. I expected to meet resistance, to feel the cool, solid form of glass. What I did not expect was my hand to go straight through.

Nothing broke. The window stayed the same, floating before me. My hand went through what I can only describe as a Portal. A portal to somewhere I could not see. I quickly pulled my hand back and to my side. Inspecting it, I found no abnormalities. The others did the same, making up their own minds on what just happened.

"I think this might be...I think this might be the way out...", I thought out loud.

"Why do you say that? This, whatever _this_ is, could lead to anywhere. Or it might just kill us. Ever hear of radiation? Why the hell should we just blindly go through it?", retorted The Boy

 _Well, if it does kill us, we will just restart this day. No biggie._

I didn't tell them that. As an alternative I said, "I think it's the way out because it makes no sense", at the perplexed looks I received I continued, "Behind a wall, in a place filled with nothing but stars is this Floating Window with people who might very well be us in a place we can't get to. It's all so incredibly random. Until now, we kept going along with things that were logical to us. We ran down hallways, escaped through doors and ended up in rooms with Things that wantws to kill us because that was the path that made sense to us. The path that was _made_ for us. For the first time in my short memory, I actually feel like I've been given a _choice_. I want to make my own choice... I _need_ to. Besides, I'm tired of repeating the same tragic day over and over again. I would gladly die for something new…But that's just me", I scratched the back of my head and looked down, instantly feeling embarrassed after my lengthen outburst.

I meant every word of it.

"I concur", said The Man, thankfully ignoring my discomfort.

The Boy made an exasperated noise, "Fine. If you're both going I'm not gonna stick around here by myself. Besides, it's not the craziest thing I've done...I think", I smiled gratefully at The Boy's ability to diffuse the tension with humour.

"So we all go through _together_. Agreed?" I asked, looking at them both, wanting to make sure that this was the right decision.

"Agreed", said The Man.

"Agreed", said The Boy.

"I will go first." demanded The Man. I know he was trying to do the heroic thing. We didn't know what was on the other side and he wanted to make sure we had a fighting chance if anything happened to him.

The thing is I wanted out of this place more than anything.

The Man looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. He opened his mouth to argue but I didn't think it worth it. I nodded to him, agreeing.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze as a goodbye. The action surprised me but I was happy he did it. If he hadn't, I would have done so anyway. The Man swiftly climbed through the Floating Window. One second he was with us. Then the next he wasn't.

We waited a beat to see if anything would happen; a scream of agony or a shot of joy. It didn't.

"I'll go next", said The Boy.

"But-", I started.

"I will go next", he said with the most austere expression I had yet to see on his face. How could I say know when he looked at me like that. I nodded in agreement for the second time. It appeared that when it came to these two, I would never have my way.

He grabbed me into his arms and hugged me with a astoundingly severe strength. It was his way of thanking me for all I had done for him. It was his way of telling me that he wouldn't begrudge me if this ended up destroying him.

"See you soon", he whispered into my hair.

I smiled and looked away before I started crying.

The Boy went through the window, taking with him the only thing that felt even slightly familiar.

"Guess it's my turn", I whispered to myself. The sound echoed emptily in the never ending space.

"You sure about that, kiddo?" I just about jumped out of my skin. I whirled around but no one was there.

"Where are you? Show yourself", I shouted into the Black.

"Can't, not this time", the disembodied voice was definitely male. From the slight gravel, I guessed he was a great deal further on in his years. I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Would you look at that, The Kid is speechless".

"Who are you?", still looking around, expecting a person to appear without much ado.

He sighed sadly and I was unexpectedly hit with a love so strong, I nearly collapsed. _I know that sigh._ _It's a sound that preludes an upsetting conversation. A conversation that either ends with a laughing hug or heavy tears._

"Sorry, kiddo. I can't tell you that either. But I do have a lot to tell you with little to no time so _please_ listen carefully. You know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important...", he sounded so very sad.

I did as he asked. He didn't talk long. His voice was well articulated and soothing, I didn't miss a word. But after he was done, I found I hadn't understood a single thing he said. Nevertheless, I tried to memorise each sentence. Committing it to memory so I could analyse his speech at a later date if I survived.

"And make sure not to forget again, kiddo...", he continued, "more than anything, I love you".

"Wait! I don't understand what you want from me! You need to explain it to me again!" I shouted.

I was only met with silence.

"Hey! Are you still there?! Come back! Please!" I shouted, even louder. Nothing.

"Damn it!"

I shook the irrational grief that crept through my heart, steeled myself, then climbed through the Floating Window before anything else showed up and stopped me.


End file.
